


Take Another Breath

by AstriferousSprite



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 02:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11221308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstriferousSprite/pseuds/AstriferousSprite
Summary: There were three things Cassian Andor knew: there was a great war, the only thing he could do was fight in it, and he’d likely die before the age of thirty.Or: Cassian learns what it means to be a person.





	Take Another Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Written for bassianweek, with the prompt _Recovery/After Scarif._  
>  Title taken from "Icarus" by Bastille.

There were three things Cassian Andor knew: there was a great war, the only thing he could do was fight in it, and he’d likely die before the age of thirty.

Even his twentieth birthday had come as a surprise to him; for a man who expected to die at the hands of the Empire, waking up on the cornerstone date had been an odd experience, not least because of K-2SO waking him up with a slightly burnt box-mix cake. “Congratulations, you’ve survived another year.”

For Cassian, his life was a ticking time bomb, with every day potentially being his last. He expected his death to come on Kafrene; after he survived Kafrene, he expected to die on Jedha; and after Jedha, he expected never to leave Scarif.

And on every account, he was almost right, yet consistently wrong.

                                                                                  

_“I should have died down there,” mumbled Cassian in the medbay after Scarif. His leg felt like it was on fire, and he could still taste blood in his mouth, yet he was somehow alive thanks to Bodhi flying in at the last second. “Force, I should have died.”_

_“Don’t say that,” said Bodhi from next to him, frowning. “Don’t—we’re alive, Cass.”_

_Cassian closed his eyes, thinking about Melshi and Calfor and everyone else that had died down there on the beach. “Why us?”_

_Bodhi sighed. “I don’t know,” he whispered. Cassian noticed how close their hands were. “I really don’t know.”_

_Cassian hummed, before gently covering Bodhi’s hand with his own. He tensed, but didn’t immediately pull away._

_“This alright?” he asked._

_Bodhi nodded, lacing their fingers together. “It’s alright.”_

_They fell asleep like that, hands intertwined._

 

After surviving Scarif, Cassian continued to throw himself into the Rebel cause. Even with the Death Star gone, the Alliance could not relax for even a second, and he knew this all too well. So, he kept running missions, kept meeting with informants, kept working. At the age of twenty-six and likely with a large bounty on his head, it was a wonder he was still around.

And as hard as he could try, he kept his distance from everyone. In the line of war, there was no room for relationships that weren’t strictly professional.

Or maybe he was mistaken.

 

_“Can we talk?” asked Bodhi, walking up to him with a serious look._

_Cassian stiffened. “What’s wrong?”_

_Bodhi crossed his arms. “You’ve been avoiding us.”_

_“Not true.” He’d been regularly attending meetings with the rest of Rogue One and the Pathfinders; that wasn’t generally known as avoiding. “I was at the briefing with General Draven yesterday, that’s not—”_

_“I mean besides that,” said Bodhi. “You haven’t been talking to any of us.” He sighed. “What’s wrong, Cassian?”_

_Damn it. “Nothing,” he automatically said, starting to back away. “I’m fine, really.”_

_“Honestly,” said Bodhi drily._

_Cassian swallowed. How did Bodhi always get to him. “I’m not fine.”_

_“Well, what’s going on?”_

_Cassian sighed. “We barely survived Scarif,” he said, lowering his brows, “and look how many people we lost. I—” He inhaled shakily. “I don’t know if we’ll survive next time. And what then? I’ll live knowing the people I cared for the most are gone forever. Or what if I die?” he said, taking a step closer. “If I make friends and leave them—how will they go on? How will_ you _go on?”_

_“I’ll go on fine,” snapped Bodhi. “Do you really think that you’re alone? That I’ve never lost anyone? That your death would stop me completely?”_

_Cassian stopped._

_Bodhi rest a hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “You can’t live without friends, Cass,” he said softly. “Don’t cut yourself off from us.”_

_“But even if—”_

_“If you died, of course I’d grieve,” said Bodhi. “But I’d keep living knowing I had the honor of being your friend.” A jolt went through Cassian’s heart. “You know, better loved and lost and all that.”_

_“Yeah,” whispered Cassian._

_Bodhi grinned. “So, are you done running away?”_

_“I think,” said Cassian, smiling back as they walked together._

Cassian had his share of friends. There was Kay, however depressing it was to consider a reprogrammed droid one’s best friend (and he had voiced this on multiple occasions). There was Jyn and Tonc, Baze and Chirrut, maybe Han and the Princess.

And then there was Bodhi.

Force, Cassian didn’t know what to make of him. By all means, he should have made a good friend; he was kind, with a sharp sense of humor and a commanding presence. But there was something else.

There always had to be something else.

Bodhi had made him laugh for the first time in years. He had a bright smile and warm eyes, and every time they were together Cassian felt dizzy and clear-headed at the same time. It scared him.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t had his share of crushes before, but it somehow felt stronger with Bodhi. And it didn’t help that every time their hands brushed together Bodhi wouldn’t automatically pull away, that Cassian felt he was watching him whenever he wasn’t looking.

But he was a soldier. And regardless of how much he wanted it, he couldn’t allow himself to dream of the future, not when there was hardly one in store for him. So he waited, and he never spoke of the shift between them.

It would only be a matter of time before the silence was broken.

 

_Cassian woke up, aware of how relaxed he felt. Most mornings he was tense, but today felt pleasantly different—almost like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders._

_Then, he noticed the arms around his waist._

_Blinking his eyes open, he had his suspicions confirmed—Bodhi was sound asleep, wrapped around him and snoring softly. And he was naked. Force, they were both naked._

_Oh, sweet Force above._

_Memories of the previous night came flooding back to him. He swallowed, knowing there would be no way to blame it on alcohol this time—not when he barely had a few sips and Bodhi was completely sober. No, they would have to confront this._

_Beside him, Bodhi stirred. Cassian took a deep breath as his eyes fluttered open, praying he didn’t look too nervous._

_For a while, they held each other’s gaze, neither of them moving away._

_Then, Bodhi made a soft hum and buried his face in the crook of Cassian’s neck, holding on tighter. “Morning.”_

_Cassian’s heart leapt. “Good morning,” he whispered, reaching for Bodhi’s hand and holding it. Maybe they’d have to talk later—but for now, everything was calm._

 

Cassian expected to die sometime on Hoth; he never did, of course. Even with the time bomb ticking away the years, he couldn’t seem to die.

He turned thirty somewhere in hyperspace. The day had come as a shock, not least because of Kay _and_ Bodhi shaking him awake with a more decent-looking cake (still box-mix). It was a miracle he was still alive; it _had_ to be a miracle.

And it had to be Endor when he died, he thought. There was no question about it—not with the second Death Star looming over their heads. There was no way he could survive Endor.

But as always, he was proven wrong.

 

_Cassian laughed as General Solo thumped him on the back._

_The Emperor’s death had led to widespread excitement among the Rebels, so it was hardly surprising that the festivities had raged long into the night. It didn’t hurt that the Bright Tree Ewoks were surprisingly good party hosts, with live music and warm bonfires aplenty._

_But even with the festive atmosphere, there was still a trace of worry in Cassian’s mind. There was no time to mourn those who lost tonight, but he knew not every starfighter had made it out alive. Even as he joked around with Jyn, he couldn’t help but feel anxious about—_

_“Your boyfriend’s here,” said Jyn almost nonchalantly. Turning around, Cassian could see she was right—there was Bodhi, still in his jumpsuit and talking animatedly with Wedge Antilles. Immediately upon seeing Cassian, he stopped. And smiled._

_And ran towards him._

_It almost seemed as if Cassian’s entire life had been leading up to this moment, where he was holding the love of his life in his arms._

_The two of them embraced, not letting go for several moments. Cassian planted a kiss on Bodhi's forehead, heart feeling light._

_“You're alive,” he whispered._

_“Course I am,” said Bodhi, still heartbreakingly beautiful even with his long hair flying everywhere. “I made a promise, didn’t I?”_

_“I was afraid you were—”_

_“I know, I know,” said Bodhi, eyes turning soft, “I honestly didn’t know if I’d make it. When they started firing…” He shuddered. “But that’s behind us. I’m here, Cassian,” he said gently. “I’m here.”_

_Cassian nodded. “What about the others?”_

_“Wedge made it,” said Bodhi as they started to walk, hand-in-hand, “and Shara, too, and Hobbie—”_

_“And Calrissian?”_

_“Lando’s fine,” he said with a bright smile. “Force, he made it out just in time, it was a miracle—and Kyrell swore there was no way he’d make it out—”_

_Even while ranting about meaningless things, Cassian found he couldn’t stop focusing on him, with his bright and expressive face and warm voice (“but of course, that’s just his ‘opinion,’ Cass—”)._

_And it was maybe at that moment that Cassian realized how much he wanted to stay by Bodhi’s side forever._

_“So I told him he could shove that ‘opinion’ up his—”_

_“Marry me?”_

_Bodhi stopped._

_He blushed, looking away. “I’m sorry, I just—”_

_“Cassian,” said Bodhi, with that heartbreakingly soft voice._

_Shit. “Bodhi, I love you,” he said, heart hammering in his chest, “and I was just hoping that after the war, we could—”_

_“Yes.”_

_He stopped breathing. “Really?”_

_“Yes,” said Bodhi, and was he crying? Oh Force, he was crying. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”_

_“Oh,” said Cassian, and then they were both laughing and hugging each other tightly._

_And he couldn’t help the tears that began to fall. Because this wasn’t a dream—he was thirty years old, and his boyfriend—_ fiancé _—was alive, and there would be a life for them after the war. Together._

_It was a miracle._

 

After Endor came a sort of calm.

Even as the war raged on for another year, Cassian knew there was an air of finality to the whole ordeal. The remnants of the Empire kept stumbling back with each battle, while the Rebellion had reformed itself into a proper New Republic. Fate seemed to be heading in their direction.

So when he stepped off the transport onto Jakku, he did so not with the grim uncertainty of his death, but with the hope that he’d make it out alive. And when he was carted off on a stretcher with his leg bleeding (the same one he had broken on Scarif, by coincidence), he somehow stayed optimistic.

And as fate would have it, that was the last battle of the war, with victory for the Republic.

It was also Cassian’s last battle.

Not because he died (because miraculously, he didn’t), but because he left the military once the war was over and the negotiations begun. He had done his part; it was time to call it quits.

Besides, he had a new life to start.

 

_Cassian found Bodhi curled up near the window._

_“What are you working on?” he asked softly, kissing his husband’s forehead._

_“My autobiography,” he replied, continuing to type away. “So much happened in my life, you know, might as well write it down.”_

_Cassian hummed. “What part are you on?”_

_“The part where we get together.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“I’m not going into detail, of course,” said Bodhi, “I’m just gonna write that there was a party, and we danced a bit, and then, you know—”_

_“Yeah, yeah,” he said, already feeling himself get flustered. Bodhi just chuckled and kissed him._

 

There were three things Cassian Andor knew: there had been a great war, there was more to his life than fighting in it, and he was still alive at the age of thirty-one.

His life had been a ticking time bomb, with each day potentially being his last. He had expected his death to come on Scarif; after he survived Scarif, he had expected to die on Hoth; and after Hoth, he had expected never to leave Endor. And yet, here he was. He had a proper home on Fest, a husband to share it with, and a plan for children along the lines.

Cassian had never been more grateful to have been so wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](https://lesbiangffa.tumblr.com) if y'all want


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